


Why The Poets Sing

by amyfortuna



Category: Atlantis (BBC)
Genre: Comfort, Episode: s01e01 The Earth Bull, Fluff, M/M, Sleeping Together
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-29
Updated: 2013-09-29
Packaged: 2017-12-27 22:59:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,024
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/984652
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amyfortuna/pseuds/amyfortuna
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jason is missing home, Hercules is drunk, and Pythagoras is in love.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Why The Poets Sing

Jason took a drink from the mug Hercules handed to him and made a face. Then he shrugged and took another drink, followed by another face. This went on for some time. 

Hercules was lost in his own cups by the time the mug was finished and didn't see Jason put it down and look around for another. Pythagoras could just see Jason's face in the dim evening light, but he wasn't wearing the expression of the conquering hero that Pythagoras would have expected. Instead, he just looked exhausted, a little drunk, and almost like a man about to cry. 

Pythagoras put out his hand before he could stop himself and laid it on Jason's shoulder, light enough to shrug off if Jason wanted to. But Jason didn't; he leaned into the touch as though he was craving someone's touch more than anything. 

"You shouldn't drink anymore," Pythagoras said. "If you are not happy when you drink, the drink will only make you more sad."

"Maybe it will make me forget," Jason said, eyes downcast, body half turned away, but still leaning into the hand on his shoulder. It was a strange contradiction of body language: a man who wanted to be touched more than anything and at the same time did not want it. 

"I don't see why you're not happy, boy, you're a hero!" Hercules said, sloshing his own mug toward Jason in a parody of a toast. 

Jason raised his head and almost glared at Hercules. "You can't possibly understand," he said. "Two days ago I set off on an adventure, yes. But I never expected to be completely cut off from my friends and family. You can't know - but everyone I ever loved, they're gone." Jason took a breath that almost sounded like a sob. "More than that - everything I knew is gone. I mean, washing machines. Television. My iPhone. The entire Internet. Pasteurised milk. Tea. What I wouldn't give for a cup of tea right now, and you don't even know what I'm talking about." He closed his eyes, putting his head in his hands. "I don't know what good it does to even tell you this," he said, muffled, from between his fingers. "You probably think I'm just mad."

Pythagoras didn't understand anything of what Jason had just said, but it was obvious that he was distressed. "Jason," he said softly, "I'm thinking maybe you should get some sleep. Things won't look so bleak in the morning." Unconsciously, Pythagoras moved his hand from Jason's shoulder around his waist in a gentle hug. "Come with me, Jason. You can share my bed - it's big enough for us both, if we're friendly." He gave a little smile to Jason, who was raising his head from his hands and turning to look at him, bleary-eyed. "I'd like to think at this point we _are_ friendly." Pythagoras dared a little squeeze of his arm around Jason and was rewarded with the faintest trace of a smile. 

"Okay," Jason said. "You're probably right." 

Pythagoras moved away to let Jason up and pointed a teasing finger at Hercules. "Don't drink all the wine, and for the gods' sake, be quiet about it if you must."

Hercules cast a look at Jason who was slowly moving toward the bedroom, and then back to Pythagoras. "What do you think's the matter with him?" 

Pythagoras tilted his head slightly. "I'm not sure, but I know he has suffered a great loss. These things take time to work through. I intend to help, whatever I can do." He looked back at Jason, feeling a rush of gratitude, but more than that, an unexplainable emotion, well up inside him. 

Hercules gave him a keen glance and lowered his voice. "Well, it's clear to see you're smitten."

Pythagoras smiled. "Perhaps."

Hercules shook his head. "Well, my boy, I do wish you the best. Just to warn you though, the hero-types do tend to prefer women, like yours truly, here." He thumped himself on the chest. 

Pythagoras sniggered a bit. "That's utter nonsense both on heroes in general and you in particular, and you know it. Anyway, I'm away to bed. Good night." 

He turned and walked toward the bedroom but not quickly enough to miss Hercules' last parting shot. "Good luck to you both, whoever buggers who." He threw a quick, obscene, hand gesture at Hercules as he entered the bedroom and carefully closed the doors. 

Jason was sitting on the bed, paused in the act of taking his shoes off. He was just sitting, frozen, impassive, one shoe in his hand like he was caught in a dream. Pythagoras laid a hand on his back and Jason started visibly. 

"I didn't hear you," he said, and then looked down, confused, at the shoe. 

"Shhh, it's okay," Pythagoras said. "Let's just go to bed."

"Yeah," Jason said, drawing a hand over his eyes. He put the shoe down and took the other one off, then lay down, curled into the bed. Slipping his own shoes off, Pythagoras slid in behind him, putting an arm over his waist. Jason sighed and nestled in close. 

Pythagoras could feel Jason relaxing against him, and far sooner than he would have expected, Jason was breathing softly in sleep. But for Pythagoras, sleep was harder to come by. The nearness of Jason, his warm weight resting against him, sent little sparks through Pythagoras' veins. Butterflies beat their wings in his stomach, and it felt like his whole head was on fire with a new passion. This was like triangles - no, this was better than triangles, more fun than playing with mirrors to set things on fire, more terrifying than seeing the black stone had been. 

This was what the poets sang about. He stroked a hand over Jason's curly hair and felt all his body respond to that touch. Jason's hair was soft and smelled of seawater but more than seawater, a sweet, faintly chemical scent which he could not place. It was addictive. Breathing in the scent of Jason, nose to the back of his neck, arm around him, Pythagoras slid gently into sleep.


End file.
